


Love Ensnared

by Zenna_Crell47



Series: For the Love of Loki [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Empath, Empathic Reader, F/M, Foul Language, Frigga is awesome, Insults, Loki is a hopeless romantic, Mentioned Character Death, Mentions of past abuse, Minor Character Death, Murderous Intentions, Odin has moments where he isn’t super terrible, Odin's A+ Parenting, Part Two of For the Love of Loki, Pre-Thor (2011), Princessing classes, Rags to Riches, Reader has a sad backstory, Reader-Interactive, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tags to be added, Tags updated with each chapter, Thor Ragnarok references, Verbal Abuse, Ylva's gonna get smacked, Ylva's vitriol, a mother's love, a new princess is born, allusions to other Thor movies, as the story progresses, but not by who you may be thinking of, constantly touch-starved Loki, cursing, dark secrets, death and discussions of death, don't mess with Mama bear!, fight me, former servant, furious potential fiancee, intuitive Reader, mama frigga, new princess reader, please don’t actually fight me, sometimes, tactile Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14084862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenna_Crell47/pseuds/Zenna_Crell47
Summary: Having found your Soulmate at last, you are overjoyed to be reunited with the other half of your soul – even if he is Asgard’s Dark Prince. You are no stranger to political intrigue, but now, having to take on new responsibilities and adjusting to the new bond with your oft mercurial Soulmate, you aren’t so sure you can handle this, not alone. Loki is ready to treasure you, but the rest of Asgard may not have such a welcoming reception for the former-servant-turned-princess.(WHY are summaries so dang hard? Might change this later, sorry)Tags will be added/updated as the story progresses. This story will have darker themes of past abuse by a former employer (most likely never described in detail), and threats/small acts of violence. However, if you’re able to watch the Avengers and Thor movies without flinching, you should be fine reading it. This warning will change as/if necessary.~Please also note, I have no set update schedule as I have no clue what I’m doing with this. Enjoy!~THIS IS PART TWO of “For the Love of Loki” SERIES. PLEASE READ PART ONE FIRST!





	1. Soulmates

**Author's Note:**

> CHAPTER Summary: You and Loki learn a little bit about yourselves before returning to the All-Mother’s solar. What will the Queen do with this new development?

Walking arm in arm with a prince, let alone a Prince of Asgard, wasn’t where you had ever imagined to end up after finding your soulmate. Especially since, as you two returned to the All-Mother’s solar, he couldn’t stop stealing glances at you that would bring a small, dreamy smile to his lips – like he couldn’t believe the reality of the moment any more than you could.

You couldn’t stop the heat pooling in your face, let alone control your ever-shifting expression from nervous to ecstatic and back again. The surprised stares of the passing servants were rather unnerving, and if it wasn’t for Loki’s captivating conversationalist skills, you would’ve shrunk into yourself some time ago. 

Yet even now, Loki was proving himself an intuitive soulmate, for he chose that moment, just as you’d begun to drift off into self-depreciative thoughts, to speak up. “My darling, I’m afraid I realized that I have made a most grievous oversight on your behalf.” He pulled you aside, into a cozy alcove that overlooked the massive gardens. “I must apologize to you now for such an offense, my dear, and I hope you will forgive me for it. Yet I only realized a moment ago that I did not learn your name. Will you tell it to me now? Tell me the name that belongs to the keeper of my heart, the other half of my soul? The name that shall never hold the same meaning to me, again…” 

You giggled, reveling in the ridiculousness of the situation. Somehow, even then, you knew in your heart of hearts that those bright, silly moments wouldn’t last forever, and you relished in them as they came. You then formally introduced yourself, adding that you were of Vanaheim, handmaiden to the Princess Ylva.

As you curtsied, Loki took up one of your hands, bowing over it to press a kiss to your palm. “A lovely name, for an even lovelier lady. I am Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, god of Mischief… I suppose we’ll have to come up with a proper nickname for you to tell the Court upon our betrothal. Tell me, is there something in particular you are known for, love?” 

You hummed in thought, smirking as something crossed your mind. “As appealing as ‘Bride of Mischief’ sounds, I doubt anyone would be pleased with another Trickster running around – titled or not. I’m sure I’ll think of something.” 

Loki blinked, a genuine laugh falling suddenly from his lips, unbidden. He appeared surprised of such a response from the both of you. “Keep that up, love, and you may just steal Silvertongue from me. I look forward to defending my right to keep it.” Those bright eyes of his absolutely sparkled with glee at the idea of a challenge; if you hadn’t known before, you knew then that being with Loki would be _Trouble,_ and delighted in that fact. 

Still, as much as your heart leapt at the thought, the crushing humility of inadequacy swept in to ruin the moment. Working under Princess Ylva for so long did nothing by way of boosting your self-confidence. A wane smile touched your lips. “We’ll see, my Prince. I doubt that many – if any – could remove you from such a perch.” 

Smirking, his eyes narrowed playfully, Loki replied, “Careful, love. You already have half my soul. I’d hate to part with my heart so quickly…” That choked a sputtering, bemused giggle from you. Almost instinctively, Loki cupped your cheeks in his hands, which felt cool and oddly comforting on your heated skin. “… Though perhaps I might learn to make exception, just this once,” he continued softly. 

Your hands grew sentience of their own and covered his, stroking his smooth skin with gently calloused fingers, and nuzzled into his hold. The contact shot tiny zings of pleasure through your body – not erotic, but comforting, like the feeling of coming home after a long journey. _Yes,_ this blissful feeling is how being together with your soulmate should always feel. 

Sadly, as with all good things, that tender moment came to an abrupt halt as you were spotted by a gaggle of gossiping maids laden down with overlarge laundry baskets. Just as the maids began to titter and struggle to come up with a proper apology for interrupting, you watched Loki’s expression stiffen and morph into a mask of pleasantness to hide his annoyance. Without a word, he took up your arm in his and placed his other hand on the small of your back, ushering you on and silently urging you ignore the fluttering maids left behind. 

As soon as you two were out of earshot, he muttered, “Is there no place to treasure my beloved in peace in this accursed palace?!” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that blossom from your throat, though you did your best to stifle it – for his sake.

“Do my frustrations amuse you, my Lady?” Loki’s tone was teasing, though you could sense the insecurity and slight scolding beneath it. 

“Of course not, my Prince,” you replied hastily. “More so, I am pleased that you would take such moments so seriously. I couldn’t be happier that my soulmate is willing to put in the effort to know me, as I would know him…” You watched Loki stand somewhat straighter at the praise, and the cool hand on your back slid demurely to your waist to pull you closer to his side. “Though I suppose, if you truly feel you need it, I give you full permission to treasure me always.” 

Loki groaned low in his throat, squeezing your waist briefly before pulling you aside again, this time behind a pillar. With his back to the pillar and your back to the wall, there was plenty of cover to hide the both of you from prying eyes… “As tempting as that is, little minx,” he whispered in your ear, “I shall not yet take advantage of the opportunity. That you offered it at all tells me we have much to learn of each other.” 

You sighed, blinking slowly as you inwardly shivered in delight. _No man should sound so sweet when denying his lady!_ “And why do you say that, my Prince? Am I not being honest?”

“Oh, I would _know_ if you attempted to lie to me, my Lady. No, but I must warn you against giving me such liberties with your affections.” His crystal clear eyes appeared to glow with their own fire, pulling you in and holding you captive in his gaze. “I am… a possessive lover, by nature. With such permissions, know I would not hesitate to kiss you senseless, no matter the audience, if I felt you needed it. I would have you always by my side, and in my lap during feasts as Asgard looked on. In private, in those precious moments alone, I would never be able to resist touching you in some way, holding you in my arms or stealing the very breath from your lips with my own… No, my love. I think I shall pretend such a woefully delicious opportunity never filled the air in your dulcet tones.”

Heat, molten and heavy, spread throughout the whole of your body, pooling especially in your face and burning your ears. Loki caught the unsettled expression on your face and took it as embarrassment. He chuckled, “You see? I’m all too happy to woo my Lady, in the meantime. I rather enjoy the chase, and only through pursuing you so ardently will I be able to prove my worthiness for your affections.” 

You could hear beneath the sincerity of his words the bitterness of one left to prove himself time and time again, and weary of it. Mustering up your courage, you cupped the Prince’s face in your hands – hoping you weren’t overstepping yourself, but knowing this was something he needed to hear. “My Loki,” you started softly. That caught his attention, sure enough. “You do not need to prove your worthiness to me. You are my _soulmate._ I feel in my heart that I could never love another the way I hope to love you. All I shall ever need is you, as you are.” 

Loki gradually leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as he eased into your hands. You had the feeling he rarely had the chance to enjoy a touch so tender of his own volition, judging by the hesitantly blissful expression on his face. Your heart ached at the thought, but then again, weren’t you much the same? You hiccuped back a sob and covered your sudden urge for tears – for this beautiful man, for yourself, for rare unconditional tenderness – with a small laugh. 

“Oh, look at us. Two of a kind,” you whispered, rubbing across Loki’s high cheekbones with your thumbs as he reopened his eyes. He seemed so much younger than his years in your hands, so much more innocent… “The All-Mother will be expecting us, my Prince. Best we get going before she sends out a search party, yes?” 

Loki chuckled, standing taller as he slipped his hands down from your wrists to cup your elbows. Pulling away from each other felt like tearing off a bandage – necessary, but unpleasant. “If you’re up for it, I can take us directly outside my mother’s door with my Seidr. Such magic is not for the weak of stomach, though, my darling,” he offered with a warning.

You thought on that for half a second. “Would it be similar to using the Bifrost to travel between realms?” 

Loki shrugged, his eyes glinting with mischief, “More or less.” 

_Well, Hel. Why not?_ The Bifrost hadn’t been so horrible an experience, after all. “I’ll give most anything a try, once. Do it.” 

He laughed in response, securing a strong arm around your waist to his side. 

After a swift, all-encompassing feeling of vertigo, you blinked and suddenly you were there, standing across the hall from Queen Frigga’s solar doors. You swayed in Loki’s hold, causing him to tighten his grip on you even as he questioned, “Alright there, love? As much as I love having you in my arms, I can already tell you are much too proud to allow me to carry you for long, let alone in front of my mother…” 

You certainly couldn’t refute that, and witty retorts were a little slow to form as you fought to unscramble your mind. “’Mm fine, I think,” you wheezed. “Definitely _not_ like the Bifrost. Shorter, but more intense…” The temptation to give the laughing Prince a loving slap on the arm was great, but you resisted long enough to gather yourself enough to continue. 

“This will be such fun,” he murmured, releasing your waist to offer his arm once more. 

You weren’t sure if he meant to say that aloud or not, but still smiled gently and took up his supportive arm. Loki took the privilege to knock and usher you inside the room first upon her Majesty’s summons, taking up your hand once the door closed. 

“What’s this?” The All-Mother was certainly caught off guard, but the hinted twinkle of mischief in her eyes gave you the idea of where Prince’s own stemmed. 

“Mother, may I have the pleasure of introducing my soulmate to you?” Loki replied promptly, standing aside to show you off as he formally announced your name. 

You curtsied deeply then, intimidated still but no longer fearing Queen Frigga. After all, her Majesty was renown throughout the realms for her unending kindness and fondness for her son, Loki. There was little doubt in your mind that she wouldn’t support him in this new development, no matter how scandalous it will be to the Court. In fact, she might be your best supporter, if you read that gleam in her eyes correctly. 

It was on the upsweep of that curtsy that you glanced, unwittingly, unconsciously, at Princess Ylva. She was smiling so sweetly. Smiling, when it came to Ylva, never meant anything good. 

You gulped soundlessly, your mouth suddenly bone dry. “I’m just as surprised as you are, your Majesty,” you managed to say. “But it’s true. Prince Loki is my soulmate… Oh, I don’t believe I shall ever tire of hearing that!” Beside you, Loki preened somewhat smugly, basking in the newly formed bond of a found soulmate and the joy of his mother. 

“Oh, my son!” Queen Frigga cried, rising to her feet to embrace your Prince. “I am so happy for you, darling! This is glad tidings, indeed!” She turned to you, embracing you too in a warm hug. “Let me look at you… Ah, yes. I always wanted a daughter, and now I finally have one!” With a motherly air, she cupped your face in one of her hands, apparently memorizing your features and perhaps searching for something… She seemed to approve of what she saw, for it took a long pause of simply beaming at the two of you before she remembered her first guest. Still, as the Queen she is, the All-Mother took it all in stride. “My apologies, Princess Ylva. As you can see, both of my sons are now spoken for. Perhaps we might be able to assist you in finding another match?” 

“Perhaps,” Ylva conceded. Her already thin lips grew tighter as she offered the All-Mother a pleasant smile. “Would either of you mind if I spirited the… new Lady away for a moment of private conversation? It is obvious she will be unable to continue her duties as my handmaiden any longer, so we of course must discuss the terms of her sudden severance…” 

Your stomach dropped painfully to your toes. The honeyed tone and amicable facade Ylva put in place before strangers, before Court, had settled in. She was livid. And as her eyes met yours, they narrowed almost imperceptibly, no doubt upset that you would dare to meet her gaze. You stiffened, a smile frozen to your lips.

This… 

This would not end well.


	2. The Better One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ylva expresses her disdain, and things go from bad to worse in a heartbeat. A smart man knows not to poke a bear. The wise man knows not to mess with her young. Ylva is neither.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed the spacing for the last chapter. Enjoy!~  
> TW: curse words, shaming, some physical violence

“You little _whore_!” Ylva hissed. “You won’t get even a copper piece as severance pay – I’ll make sure of it! Not when you’ll be bathing in golden tubs and have the Dark Prince between your legs every night.”  She stared hard into your face before regarding the rest of your body in disdain. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. What did you do? Slip him a love spell? Or promise him unlimited access to your loose quim?” She tutted, scowling as though she’d smelled something foul. “No matter. If it’s the former, I have no doubt Prince Loki, as strong a sorcerer as he is, will shake off the enchantment and drop you on your ass quickly enough. And if it’s the latter… well, I’m sure I could entice him to something much more appetizing, a feast for the eyes, rather than something so plain and… inadequate.” Ylva then paced over to the nearby vanity mirror, primping and nitpicking her appearance to her satisfaction.

You swallowed the lump stuck in your throat, gradually easing into the idea that she was no longer your mistress… and you had full control over your own future from now on – considering she had basically just fired you from her service. You could say whatever you wanted, finally let her have the brunt of your anger and bitterness that had been stewing for the many, many years you’d spent in her service… But you wouldn’t. You would  _not_ stoop to her level, no matter how great the temptation. No, you would walk away the better woman, with an even better future awaiting you outside the chamber’s door.

“I am not like you, Ylva,” you said softly.

Taking that as defeat, Ylva made to open her mouth, but you stepped forward and cut her off, daring her to try and punish you now for looking her in the eye. “No, I am not like you, and I thank the Norns for it! I would not bribe a Prince, one who already has everything, with false promises, and most certainly not ones of passion. I would normally defend my honor, but I know that you will listen to no other voice than your own, so I shall be brief.”

Every time she tried to overshadow you, you grew just a bit louder. Her icy glares, no matter how cold, would silence you no longer. “I care little for your coin, but I will take the money I am due as promised in my contract – the contract we both signed and had copied, verified, and sealed by five different magistrates shortly after I began to work for you. If you refuse to comply, I will come after you. Not with the might of Asgard, but with the harsh truth of your own actions. How many scandals did you have me clean up? How many crimes of neglect and abuse have you attempted to hide? You are not as discreet as you think you are, Princess.”

“ You have no proof! Not a lick of it!” Ylva shrieked, looking wild now with panic. 

You tilted your head to the side. “Don’t I? The guards and servants have been gathering a case file on your for years. Refusing my due may be the final nail in your own coffin, Princess. Or perhaps in your prolonged absence, they have finally come forward of their own volition and brought your selfish and demeaning actions before the High Court. You have made enough of a reputation for yourself that even the common people in the Jury will have no trouble believing it, though I doubt they will have guessed the depths to which you have gone to cover your own sorry ass.”

Ylva’s mouth opened and closed, her brow furrowed in clear rage. “The only sorry  _ass_ that needs covering will be your own!” she hissed. “Do you really think  _you_ will be up to the task to be a princess, let alone of Asgard! You? You are nothing. You come from nothing. You owe this chance of finding your ‘soulmate,’” she spat the word like poison, “to me. You owe your  _everything_ to me! Do you hear me?! You. Are.  _Nothing!_ ” 

In that moment, you saw Ylva as she was, her true self. Even blustering and posturing, she was afraid. In fact, you noted absently, she was always afraid.  Afraid of you, of her loneliness, of never feeling loved… 

Though compassionate by nature, you never could overlook her bitterness. Her only source of validation, even from the time you first started under her at the palace in Vanaheim centuries ago, was through putting people down to build herself up. The social and political intrigue of Court was only a game to her, something to stave off the boredom and loneliness – which by itself wasn’t the issue, rather her cruelty and sadistic pleasure in ruining the lives of those people around her, even those who never wronged her, was despicable.

“… I’m sorry, Ylva,” you said finally, your expression erring on the side of pity, though she probably read it as contrite. If her smug grin – all teeth and no beauty to shine in her eyes – was anything to go by, she was under the impression that she’d won… The problem was that you were never playing by her rules. “… I’m sorry that you are so broken and hardhearted that you cannot even find joy in the happiness of others. I’m sorry that you are too bitter to see the true love in soulmates. But most of all, I’m sorry that you feel I stole from you a chance for happiness. I always knew this day would come, but I’d hoped – perhaps blindly and fruitlessly – that you might find some modicum of contentment on the way… Now I see that you are too selfish and spiteful to either understand or accept a love that is not your own poor imitation.”

Ylva stilled, her eyes wide and glossy as she stared somewhere far beyond you, her smug expression still frozen on her face. That melted away into something truly frightening: a dark expression you had only seen a few times in your service to her – one that meant she was displeased enough, _angry_ enough, to order a servant be whipped, or an acquaintance be sabotaged in the cruelest humiliation available to her political arsenal.

“You… you _slimy, insignificant_ little – !” She never finished that thought, for she was too busy slapping you in the face.

Your stomach dropped through the floor. Ylva had never raised her own hand for her punishments – she was too petty and meticulous about her appearance to dole out her version of justice herself. But as you shielded your stinging face in your hand, you realized that this was a push too far for her increasingly fragile sanity.

“I should’ve _known_ that you’d be trouble. What should I have expected?” she ranted, her voice rising in both pitch and volume as she paced the increasingly smaller room, filling it with her rage and bitterness.

You wanted no part of it, and made to flee… But Ylva ceased her aimless pacing to stalk you, lashing out with clawed hands at every opportunity. You had no training in defense, no practical experience under your belt aside from the odd scuffle with the neighbor boys growing up – and their goal was never to hurt or maim, either.

You had to distract her somehow, pin her so you could escape – but how? You were no silvertongue – as proven by your exchange leading to that moment – and you never took yourself to be particularly clever… Perhaps it was time to take a leaf from your Trickster beloved’s book to outwit her…

“No matter how you dress up, no matter how you teach yourself to behave, you will _never_ be a _true_ princess!” Ylva shrieked. “A swine, however fattened, will always return to the muck it came from!”

_But how?_

There was no hope to tire her out, not when she was so consumed by rage, and no reasoning with her either for the same. Your eyes flicked about the room, searching simultaneously for your next move and your next three motions ahead to hopefully trap her.

_Think!_

What would Ylva not expect, and not so easily see through to fall for it? Unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to the draw and had to leap aside to avoid Ylva once again, accidentally upsetting a vase in your haste and sending it soaring only to shatter against the floor. That pulled a frighteningly satisfied smirk to Ylva’s thin lips.

“Clumsy cow,” she sneered, disconcertingly gleeful. “You’ll never be good enough for him, for Asgard. And it’s about time you saw the truth of it!”

Just as Ylva leapt for you and you made to jump back (Since when did she have a knife?!), Prince Loki and Queen Frigga burst in the door. Loki immediately raised a hand and green-glowing wisps caught Ylva midair and dragged her away, to the wall opposite you – the farthest she could get from you and still be in the same room. The knife fell to the floor with a soft thud, yet you couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. With Ylva subdued, all you could do was think about what could’ve happened had you not been quick enough, had _Loki_ not been quick enough…

You recognized that dagger, all too well. How many times had you cleaned and polished it for her over the years? You knew about the hidden poison compartment hidden in the pommel, had actually watched her replace it a time or two when she was preparing for some new scheme. Of course, the times where Ylva herself actually used it herself were few and far between, but she always kept it close – though it never registered _how_ close until that moment.

Loki filled the whole of your sight range in the next sharp breath, gently looking you over and probably checking for injury. “Are you alright, my love?” he queried softly, satisfied to see no evidence thus far yet still concerned for what might still be unseen.

You absently put a hand to your cheek, where you could still feel the sting of Ylva’s hit. It wasn’t lost on you the small miracle that her nails hadn’t dug into your flesh and drawn blood. “Just here, I think,” you murmured, still somewhat lost to reality.

Loki slowly, carefully replaced your hand with his own. From the corner of your eye, you spotted a slight glow around that hand, but the cool relief of his touch was a balm to your soul that helped ground you in the present. Apologetically, Loki mentioned, “I’m afraid that reducing the swelling is all I’m able to do, darling. Healing is not my expertise.” That done, he held onto your shoulders to search your face and then pull you into his arms. A sense of wholeness washed over you, content to be with your soulmate, at last. You hadn’t realized you were shaking until Loki was holding you steady in his arms. “Fear no more, dearest. That rat in fine clothes shall no longer be allowed near you, and rest assured that she will be _dealt with._ ”

At that, Ylva rent the air with a shrieking wail to wake the dead. Not literally, of course – she had no magic of her own – but it sure felt like it could…

“Get a hold of yourself, girl,” the Lady Frigga commanded. When Ylva continued even louder, great tears rolling down her fair cheeks, that is when the All-Mother lost her temper. She slapped Ylva across the face, which made the younger woman shut up immediately from the shock of it. Judging by the way Loki startled, this was new to him, as well. “You have no right to cry, Ylva,” Queen Frigga said, her voice still soft yet icy. “You are a disgrace to your House and a blight on your mother’s – my cousin’s – good name. Mark my words, young one: you _will_ be brought to justice.”

“I believe Mother just searched her mind for her guilt,” Loki explained quietly, giving you a quick squeeze of reassurance yet still ready to act should Ylva react badly. But she only hung there in stunned silence, her rich blonde curls hanging disheveled around her face in her defeat. Loki once more ensured you were fine before going to inspect the fallen dagger.

You made a concerned noise – involuntarily – that got strangled in the back of your throat. He looked back to you at the noise, tensed to act once more. “Beware the blade,” you whispered. “There’s a compartment for poison in the pommel…”

Loki relaxed minutely, but the tension in his shoulders was clear enough to read even with his back to you. He was furious – and on your behalf. As terrible as the situation was, that should not have set a warm, fuzzy feeling rampant through your gut, yet it did.

Finally, the All-Mother drew her attention away from Ylva to rush over to your side. “Are you hurt, darling?” The warmth natural to her voice had returned, which gave both Loki and you a greater measure of ease. She cupped your face in her hands, soft and delicate yet strong as they were. “These private rooms are enchanted to prevent unwanted listening ears from hearing what is said inside, but once we heard something shatter, we knew something was wrong. I apologize to you, sweetest, for not realizing the danger sooner.”

“I am well, my Queen, do not apologize. You could not have known,” you offered, though still shaken from the whole ordeal. “She struck my face, but I was able to evade her attacks otherwise. And I admit, I was not as cordial as I ought to have been…” Better than you could’ve been, worse than you should have been. The fact that you had to fight poison with poison hung heavily in your heart.

“Oh, my darling girl,” she whispered, her fingers cool and glowing a soft gold against your skin.

To your relief, under the All-Mother’s careful eye, all traces of stinging and bruising promptly disappeared, and you sighed at the bliss of being cared for… It was a feeling you were happy to get used to, again. Too may years of struggling on your own, and then the often isolating influence of Ylva had made a kind, caring touch even more valuable than gold, than any currency in all the known universe.

“There you are,” Lady Frigga hummed. “All better, yes? Healing is one of my specialties, and I would see you rid of all traces of past affiliation or marks from this false Princess as soon as possible.”

“F-false Princes, your Majesty?” you ventured to wonder aloud.

Steel settled into the soft blue of the All-Mother’s eyes. “Yes, false Princess. A princess in name alone: one who caters only to her selfish desires and cares for her people in as much as she can use them as pawns in her games.”

Two guards entered the room then, nodding acknowledgment to the Queen and the Prince, and taking up position on either side of Ylva’s limp body.

Queen Frigga spared a fond glance to her son. “Always five steps ahead of everyone else with your illusions, my son?” she smiled.

“Always, Mother,” Loki grinned, unrepentant in the slightest.

The guardsmen hauled Ylva bodily away – where, you didn’t know nor did you particularly care just then – as soon as Loki dropped the spell holding her against the wall, clasped in irons and heavy chains. Once Ylva was gone, Loki drew near and pulled both you and the All-Mother ( _What a thought!_ ) in his arms to hold you close. It was the oddest thing, to be held so tenderly in the arms of the very royals you had so feared only an hour or so before, but you wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in all the Realms.

“Dearest love,” Loki began, hesitant and worried. “I would give anything to stay by your side now, in your most vulnerable hour, but I _must_ report all of this – everything that has occurred over the course of this whole ordeal and our new bond – to the All-Father, myself. At once. Would you be opposed to spending this time with my Mother? I swear I will do everything within my power to return to your side as swiftly as I possibly can!”

You managed to squirm one hand up to smooth along his hair, tucking an errant strand behind his ear. You didn’t _like_ the idea of being away from him now, for any reason, but you had realized long ago in accepting your soulmark that you would be soul-bonded with someone of significance and importance. Perhaps that never quite registered in the idea of a prince, let alone Asgard’s Dark Prince, but you knew your place in all this would be best standing by his side, supporting him as best you could…

“Go, my love,” you replied. “Go. I will stay with the All-Mother, with her permission.” Lady Frigga nodded her assent, you noted. “Go, and return to me all the better and accomplished for having gone away.”

Those words, though you knew they passed from your own lips and carried from your heart, held an ominous weight to them you never intended them to carry.

Loki pressed a kiss to your hand, smiled ruefully to you and the All-Mother, and hurried away. Queen Frigga seemed to once again study you, the tension in the room only _just_ beginning to dissipate.

“Come along, my darling daughter,” she voiced at last. “I believe it is time we hand you cleaned up and dressed as the Princess you are. Asgard’s new Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case, it was clear, I headcannon (if it's not real cannon, I'm not sure and too lazy to double check at the moment) that Frigga is originally from Vanaheim, but went to Asgard to marry Odin after finding out he was her soulmate.
> 
> I'm starting to get a direction for this crazy thing, but please do keep up with the ideas and suggestions! They may not make it completely into the story, but some of the comments from the first chapter gave me a few of my own, and I really appreciate the love and support! Thank you!~~


	3. Tensions and Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to spend some quality time with your future mother-in-law. So far so good? You’re not sure how the rest of the Royal Family, let alone Asgard, will receive you…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Thank you so very much for your patience with me. Like I've said before, I have no set update schedule, so it really comes down to whatever I have the time or energy (or motivation, etc) to do, when I can. So thank you for sticking with me!  
> This chapter turned out extra-long because of how long I took to make it, so please, enjoy!

You spent the whole afternoon with Queen Frigga. The first hour or so was spent with a seamstress and her assistant, the both of them working in tandem to record your measurements and ensuring a gown that had been awaiting an owner would fit correctly. By the end of their efforts, a gorgeous dress in pale blue and silver – not too dissimilar from the All-Mother’s chosen colors – was settled on your figure. It wasn’t necessarily a style you would choose on your own, but the cut and resulting fit was actually very pretty. The neckline allowed for a small taste of skin all around your neck without becoming vulgar, the skirt was surprisingly light, and the material itself was supple enough not to become a hindrance even with the tight long sleeves.

After that was finished, Lady Frigga smiled at the obvious relief on your face when she announced it was time for a short, refreshment break. It was as you both sat, sipping tea from delicate tea cups, that the All-Mother began in earnest to ask more about yourself. “Tell me, my dear. Aside from informing the palace head-steward on Vanaheim of your new situation, who else should we inform? I’m sure your family will be thrilled to hear you’ve found your soulmate!”

A withered smile that was more of a grimace tugged at your lips. Carefully, hoping to spare either of you more awkwardness, you replied, “I’m sure they would be, were they still alive, but as it stands, no, my Queen. Perhaps I might send a letter to my acquaintances on staff with the envoy to Vanaheim, but there is no one else to tell.”

The All-Mother drew a sharp breath. “I am so sorry, darling. I had no idea… If it is not too much, would tell me how long this has been so? If the burden is yet too much, you need not tell me now.”

You shook your head, amazed at the kindness of this near perfect stranger who had opened up her heart and home to you so quickly, so sincerely. “It has been long enough that I barely remember any of their faces. My father died protecting us during a raid when I was twelve. Pox took my two older brothers away when I was twenty. Mother fell ill from over-working herself when I was fifty, and never got better after that. It was a slow death that killed her in her sleep when I was ninety. My parents had no siblings, and my grandparents were gone long before I was born. I bounced around from family friend to family friend until my hundredth birthday, when I couldn’t stand their pitying eyes and painful remarks of it being ‘a shame’ I inherited neither of my parents’ talent with botany or metal-working. For the next fifty or so years, I worked my way up in the ranks of the cleaning staff for Vanaheim’s Royal Palace, even though I was little more than a child with limited work experience. It was on a whim that Ylva chose me as her handmaid. Her previous one had just been sacked only an hour before she found me deep-cleaning the baseboards in the halls of her wing of the Palace. And that is why I have been her handmaid, until now…”

Queen Frigga, genuine tears of empathy turning her blue eyes watery in compassion, took up your hands to hold in her own. “By far,” she whispered, “you are the strongest person I have ever met. That you can still have a heart so gentle after all that has happened to you is rare and so beautiful…”

You shrugged, bashful at the compliments. “I’ve had seven centuries to grieve, to be angry, and to heal. I learned to work through the pain out of necessity, but I figured out how to let it go for my own sake. There was nothing I could have done then, and nothing I can do now but live the life they would’ve wanted me to have.”

Realizing just how heavy the atmosphere had become in light of your personal tragedies, you asked the All-Mother to tell stories of her own, and she gladly indulged you. One of the best was a story about a young Loki, still new to his magic and learning how to control it, who accidentally hiccuped an entire garden’s worth of flowers into existence in the space of an hour. Unfortunately, the excess pollen from all the flowers made him sneeze them all into various critters – not the least of which being snakes, kittens, beetles, and butterflies. Thankfully, Lady Frigga had been in the room with him the whole time and was able to help teach him how to “wink” them back out of existence – though apparently one of the more benign snakes had been left behind after the ordeal, and she had allowed her son to keep it as a pet. Loki had been about five, at the time.

Queen Frigga had a certain sparkle of contained, tempered amusement in her eye as she explained that they very same snake was what Loki had transformed himself into, about three years later, to play a prank on his older brother – by stabbing him! You were so surprised, you couldn’t help the laughter that spilled so freely. Lady Frigga giggled a bit herself; she explained that though she disapproved of her sons being so violent towards each other, she had been so impressed by that advanced bit of magic from her younger son that she had sneaked his favorite dessert to him in the evenings, even though he was being otherwise punished.

You hardly noticed the passing of time, you were so absorbed in her latest story of her life before becoming Queen of Asgard and All-Mother of the Nine Realms. But Lady Frigga – which she insisted you call her, if not Mother – certainly did, and she was quick to interrupt herself once she noticed the sun beginning to set. “My dear, I apologize. It appears the conclusion of that story will have to wait until a later time. The dinner feast will begin soon, and I should think it best we both freshen up before we go.”

“Oh, wait! But whatever happened to the man with the funny horse?” you exclaimed, your face heating up in embarrassment at your own childish excitement.

“Ah, Loki always wondered whatever happened to him, too,” Lady Frigga laughed. “That man and his horse went on to become their own traveling show, independent of any masters, and were soon known throughout the realm for their comedic tricks. All of Vanaheim mourned when both horse and human of Midgard passed away of old age…”

“How wonderful, then, that they obtained their independence. To have never known freedom before their limited time alive ended…”

Lady Frigga laid a warm hand on your own with a smile. “Indeed, my darling. Now, I believe it is time to freshen up for dinner. I have a maiden on the way now to lead you to your new rooms, and you may have a few moments to yourself before she shows you to the Feast Hall. Tonight, we celebrate Asgard’s younger prince finding his soulmate, after all! Tough, this is only a precursor to the feast that will be held at your betrothal ceremony, which will be held once you and my son have had a better chance to know each other, of course.”

You gulped thickly, weakly, at the thought. The reminder that you were now bound to royalty was a daunting image.

The Queen sighed good-naturedly, squeezing your hand for a measure of comfort. “That is why we are willing to wait, my dear,” she whispered. “We do not wish to overwhelm you, especially as you come from a more humble background – for which no one can fault you. It will take time to get used to it all, but I have faith in you. And remember this: you will not be facing this alone.”

“Loki will be there to help guide me,” you murmured, relaxing at the recollection of your soulmate and the feeling he invoked simply by being by your side.

“Precisely,” Lady Frigga nodded.

A knock, and the soft, low voice of a maiden heralded your time to depart. Lady Frigga squeezed your hand one last time before releasing you to the maiden – a mere slip of a girl, most likely no more than 200 years – lingering just inside the doorway. “I am Astrid, milady. I’m your new maid, and I have been instructed to show you to your new quarters,” she offered with a curtsy. “If you will please follow me?”

How strange a feeling, to now be served after serving for so long… You cast a final glance back to the Queen, but she merely waved you on.

“I’ll see you at the feast, darling. Worry not.”

And with those parting words in mind, you followed after the fair Astrid, trying to stay close so as not to get lost – again. To your surprise, Astrid lead you to an entirely different wing of the castle you had never seen before. It was still excessively lavish, and everything was still either accented or covered in gold, but somehow it felt more… artfully arranged. More tasteful to the eye, if still overwhelming at first glance.

“Welcome to the Royal Wing, milady,” Astrid announced softly. “As Prince Loki’s soulmate, you will share the same hall, though you will have separate rooms at least until your betrothal…”

A swell of relief washed over you. Though you were overjoyed to be with your soulmate at last, Loki and you were still little more than strangers. Intimate strangers, yet strangers none the less. You were being given the chance to know each other even before your formal courtship, and you couldn’t have been more grateful. Hopefully, the idea of being more than a servant, more than a handmaid, would sink in soon, because you certainly did _not_ feel worthy of such honors… especially once you saw your new _rooms!_

In stupefied awe, you turned back to Astrid, slack-jawed. “Is – is this really for me? Are you sure this is where you meant to take me?”

Luckily, despite her youth, Astrid seemed unshakable in her confidence. “Yes, milady! These rooms are yours to do with as you please, as befits your position as Prince Loki’s soulmate… Shall I draw a bath, milady? There is not much time before the feast for a proper, relaxing soak, though it should be enough for a quick scrub.”

The thought of having someone else draw your bath was weird – to say the least! – though you shoved the awkwardness aside to consider the offer carefully. “No, thank you. I may wish for one later this evening, though I think I will manage with a quick wash from the basin.”

“Very well, milady. Is there anything else you require?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Astrid.”

The girl blushed under the slight praise, curtsying before she scampered off to fetch a full, fresh basin, leaving you alone in the lavish rooms with naught but your own thoughts for company. You sought to distract yourself by quickly exploring the suite of rooms given for your disposal. There didn’t seem to be any predominate theme to the scheme of the room, though all of the furniture was built of darker wood, and the bookshelves in the sitting area were only partially filled. You could already see in your mind’s eye how you might like to add personal touches here and there, make it feel more like your own space, a sanctuary. Then there was the actual bedroom and connecting washroom and privy… (Such luxury!)

Astrid returned promptly, before you could get too lost in your own head, and you cleaned yourself quickly enough that the girl was able to guide you to the feast at a more leisurely pace. You were grateful for the chance to hopefully familiarize yourself with the layout of the palace, though seeing so much gold, everywhere, all the time, was becoming a bit wearing for the eyes. Grumbling mostly to yourself, you said, “By the Norns, how does anyone here find their way around without going blind?!”

Astrid giggled, “Many of us grew up serving in there halls, milady. Though all of the newest servants are gradually introduced to their duties area by area.”

_Makes sense._

Though you couldn’t help but wonder at your luck previously being able to find your way outside earlier that day… Perhaps the hand of fate was guiding you along to finally meet your soulmate?

“You get used to it, after a while,” the girl added quickly, obviously nervous at your silence.

You couldn’t help a small giggle to accompany a reassuring smile. “I hope so! I should hate to become blinded by my new home when there is so much more to Asgard I have yet to see!”

Astrid grinned sweetly, and the two of you chatted about the various “landmarks” used to navigate the palace, and how to recognize when one has gone too far from the intended destination. Before you knew it, Astrid was curtsying and dismissing herself while you stood awkwardly before the doors to the Feasting Hall, the two guards at either side vaguely amused as they watched you dance from foot to foot anxiously.

It was only the reminder that Lady Frigga and your soulmate awaited you beyond the doors that bolstered your courage enough to continue; you nodded to the guards as you stepped forward, allowing them to open the gargantuan doors for you. As soon as the doors swung open, you were blasted with an onslaught of noise that you hadn’t anticipated – even though you certainly _should_ have, considering that wasn’t your first feast – and had to muster up your courage once more.

It was obvious from the first steps in that feasts on Asgard were much more lively, shall we say, than the ones you were used to on Vanaheim. Boisterous, even thunderous, laughter filled the heavy air. There were spices and scents you didn’t recognize cloying your senses. And the sheer multitude of peoples (all of them ridiculously beautiful, the lot of them!) filling the room and the long tables was enough to drain your flagging energies. Luckily, the high table of Asgard’s royalty was easy enough to spot, and the moment you spotted your Dark Prince made the discomfort of the curious eyes trailing after you as you approached worth it.

Almost as though he had a sixth sense for when someone was watching him, Loki – previously boredly picking at the tablecloth – looked up and directly at you. You almost vicariously felt his joy, as minuscule as he allowed it to show; it was as though his face lit from within. There was still that element of chaotic darkness lurking beneath the surface, and you suspected that would never truly leave him, as a facet of his countenance and personality, yet you found it familiar and soothing compared to the wildness around you. Perhaps any other might find it intimidating, but you knew already that the face he showed to everyone else belied the passion and strength of the man – the _god_ – beneath.

Though it was discomforting to have the weight of so many curious gazes on your back, a smile tugged at your lips. Butterflies danced in your belly, and the sheer relief you felt could not be denied when Loki stood to receive you, kissing your hand and winking mischievously.

“My darling, you are radiant,” he grinned. “Truly, there is no other who can compare when you enter the room. I am so fortunate to be able to call you my other half.”

Heat rose to your face quickly under the smooth machinations of such a silver tongue. And his declaration, however softly spoken, did not go unnoticed. Several heads glanced up in surprise from the lower tables, and Prince Thor drew his attention from his tankard long enough to get a good look for himself.

At first glance, Asgard’s Golden Prince, Thor the Thunderer, was every bit the warrior he was said to be, though you could see little of the refinement usually expected of royalty in the man as his beard accumulated froth from his drink. Upon seeing your shy smile, he quickly wiped away the mess from his face with a serviette and stood to meet you. You noticed Loki tense as his brother clasped a heavy hand on his shoulder jovially, Thor grinning and your Prince halfway grimacing.

“So this is your Lady? Your soulmate, brother?” Thor rumbled, as only he could. The Golden Prince half-bowed courteously before you. “A great pleasure, my lady. It does my heart glad to know my brother has found his other half.”

“It is good to meet you as well, Prince Thor,” you nodded, curtsying smoothly.

“Good Lady, I am a prince, it is true, but I am Loki’s brother first, and soon enough, your brother as well. Please, just call me Thor.” Perhaps the Thunderer was charming in his way, and it made your heart glad to see him so easily accepting you, yet he was still childish in comparison to your beloved’s Silvertongue.

Loki wrapped an arm about your waist, pulling you in close to his side. Whether he did it consciously or not mattered little as the contact and closeness caused that _warmth_ from earlier, that sense of _home,_ to resurge through your body. Though it was just as Loki was about to comment that their Majesties, the All-Mother and All-Father, finally entered the Feasting Hall.

The entirety of the room collectively got to their feet, cheering the appearance of their rulers as Lady Frigga walked by the side of her husband and soulmate, arm-in-arm. You gulped at your first true glimpse of King Odin. For though he was clearly grizzled by a long life hard-lived, he was still an imposing bear of a man… And perhaps the rumors were true about the old King; that the one eye he had remaining was all-seeing, all-knowing – it surely felt as much when his gaze lingered at the sight of you standing near his sons.

At your side, you noticed that Loki had adopted that same courtly, almost bored “mask” as he’d had shortly before your arrival.

_Curiouser and curiouser._

Surely, he wouldn’t need such a mask in front of his own family? He had certainly been at ease with his mother, Lady Frigga, earlier that day…

The Princes bowed and you curtsied deeply as their Majesties passed, though Lady Frigga made sure to give you a comforting smile before she was seated on her husband’s left. As soon as King Odin sat, the entire hall resumed it’s _lively_ atmosphere; the food was finally brought out as Thor sat on his father’s right side and Loki seated you directly between his mother and himself. The significance of this arrangement did not go unnoticed, least of all by yourself, but you were only too happy to be seated between the two people you knew best to care that Loki put you in such a position of high importance.

As the courses progressed through the meal, you grew gradually more relaxed as you had the chance to speak with your soulmate once more. He listened with an otherwise straight face, but a spark of something tender lingered in his eyes. Loki wasn't very chatty that evening, seeming to prefer listening to you or his mother speak about how the dress-fittings went. Still, he asked pertinent questions that kept the conversation light and lively, showing that even if he wasn’t particularly interested in the events, he was still listening.

It was only after the final course was set – a light, sweet cake that felt like eating a cloud – that Odin turned his attention on you… and it all fell downhill.

“Young lady,” the All-Father said, “my sons tell me that you are Loki’s soulmate. Is this true?”

You gulped back the sudden lump caught in your throat, all sense of appetite for sweets gone. You half turned in your seat to meet the King’s eye. Loki grabbed up your hand from underneath the table, silently offering support – and you were grateful, knowing that you were shaking slightly in his grip. “Yes, All-Father,” you replied respectfully, drawing strength from Loki. “Prince Loki and I are soulmates. We found out only earlier this day.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Are you not the handmaid of Princess Ylva of Vanaheim?”

You flinched beneath King Odin’s scrutiny. Lady Frigga chose that moment to take up your clammy other hand, lending her own support to bolster you. “I – I was, indeed, your Majesty,” you said, fighting the shake that wanted to creep into your voice. “However, in light of current circumstance, I am no longer in her employment.” Both Loki and Lady Frigga gave your hands a squeeze, and you could see her glance over your shoulder to her son with no small amount of pride. Perhaps this encounter was going better than they had hoped?

“Of course, of course,” the King echoed. “Now, tell me why I have the Princess of Vanaheim currently in my dungeons.” The whole room seemed to still at that. Odin’s one, blue eye seemed to harden. “Tell me, why would I be willing to risk the safety of my House, the safety of Asgard, for a mere girl?”

Immediately, Loki tensed as you floundered. The whole of the Feasting Hall was once again watching you – or so it seemed – as you were at a loss for words.

“Father, I – !” Loki began.

“No, I would have her speak,” Odin commanded.

The increase in pressure around your hand was the only comfort you had, for you could not look away from the All-Father’s face. It was true enough. Those who did not know the full details, especially on Vanaheim, might become outraged to hear that the Princess was imprisoned (even if she _was_ disliked by the greater majority of the population for her lack of empathy). It would be a contention of pride, and not a fight they could hope to win – and ultimately, Asgard would lose one of her longest standing allies. Even you knew that would do nothing to endear yourself to Asgard as her future princess. For Loki’s sake, you would have to be strong. For the sake of Asgard, your new home, and your old home of Vanaheim, you have have to be brave… You squeezed Loki’s hand back.

“Your Majesty, All-Father, I may only confirm that Prince Loki and I have discovered we have been bound by the hands of the Norns, and it is not something we shall take lightly. As for Princess Ylva… she did not take the news well. And in her rage, she attempted to kill me. Prince Loki and the All-Mother stopped her before she could do me harm. That is why Princess Ylva is in the dungeons, your Majesty.”

King Odin nodded slowly, running a hand through his gray-white beard. “I see…” He got to his feet, holding aloft his goblet of mead, and all eyes turned to the All-Father at once. “A toast, in honor of Prince Loki finding his soulmate, May they find wholeness in their bond, and love all their lives long.”

The whole Feasting Hall raised their glasses high, roaring their approval – Thor among the loudest. Lady Frigga had released your hand to raise her own wine glass high, but Loki simply brought your attention away from the spectacle by gently taking the hand he’d been holding and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. His bright eyes glittered, and even through the courtly mask he bore, you could see the satisfaction of recognition in his face. Your heart glowed at the pride in his eyes. Somehow, you sensed you had passed some kind of test you weren’t aware you had been taking, and the relief you felt as the King dismissed all those who wished to retire as he left with Lady Frigga left you nearly light-headed.

“Would you like to retire now, my Lady?” Loki questioned softly.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

Your soulmate chuckled as he escorted you back to your wing of the palace, walking in companionable silence with your hand nestled in the crook of his elbow as the merriment of the Feasting Hall began to fade. Once you were far enough from the revelry to speak without straining your voices, Loki said, “You handled yourself very well today, love. There are not many who can stand the proverbial toe-to-toe with the All-Father, let alone upon first meeting and interacting with him. I believe you impressed everyone today with your bravery.”

You snorted despite yourself. “My Prince, I would hardly say that was bravery. I’m sure you felt me shaking in your grasp – thank you for that, by the way. I don’t think I would have been able to say what I did if you hadn’t been holding my hand…”

Heat rushed to your face as Loki halted in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing for a long moment, simply looking into your face and drinking in your nervousness and embarrassment. Gently, Loki cupped your face in his cool hands, brushing away a stray eyelash from your cheekbone. “It was my pleasure to be your support, my darling, but I do believe that true bravery is not the absence of fear, but acting despite your fear. My father is a terrifying man in his own right, and you stood up for yourself without interference from either myself or my mother – that is _remarkable._ Especially when you consider that there are many who have lived at Court their whole lives and still cannot meet my father’s eye when speaking to him. Yours is a rare soul, my dear. Please do not diminish that out of some misguided sense of modesty…”

A smile rose to your lips as a thought came to mind. “And I suppose that says something about you, doesn’t it, my Prince? Since we are two halves of the same soul.”

Loki laughed, and it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, for it was so completely unhindered and honest – because you had surprised it out of him! “Cheeky,” he murmured fondly, a smile playing about his mouth. “Shall we continue?”

He offered up his arm again, and you gladly accepted, happy to let him guide you through the palace to the hall you shared. At the door to your chambers, Loki bowed as he pressed a light, sweet kiss to the inside of your wrist, his eyes glittering with mischief when he noticed the heat it brought your face and the shivers it inspired down your spine.

“Good night, darling,” your Dark Prince intoned sweetly, almost secretive in softness. “Sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams, Loki,” you replied just as quietly. And if you weren’t mistaken, Loki gained just a touch of color about his cheeks and ears before he left for his own rooms.

You scurried into your bedroom, feeling like you could climb Asgard’s tallest peak without breaking a sweat, your cheeks aching from grinning so much. Yet it was as you disrobed that the events of the day began to catch up with you. Exhausted, you fell into your new, cloud-like bed and promptly fell asleep. If you dreamed, they must only have been sweet, for you were refreshed and energized the following morning.

You awoke to Astrid’s cheery chirps of “Good morning, milady! Shall I draw a bath for you this morning?” as she drew the drapes open.

“Yes, please,” you rasped, voice gone hoarse with sleep.

Astrid waited patiently in your bedroom while you bathed, ready with a tray of a sumptuous breakfast (which you weren’t sure you could finish yourself, it was so full!), a new gown recently completed from your new wardrobe, and a letter from the Queen. She helped you into the gown, as intricate as the Asgardian fashion tended to be, and gave you the letter to read while she arranged your hair.

 

**My Darling Daughter, as I hope I may call you,**

 

**I apologize, however none of us shall be there to accompany you this morning. Each new day brings it’s own set of difficulties, and the days tend to start earlier than we often have the time to meet. And so, this letter is to inform you of your new schedule.**

**Mornings will be spent in the Royal Library, where you shall be tutored in the history of Asgard and the Nine Realms, as well as the laws of Asgard you shall need to uphold as her new princess.**

**After a brief repast, you shall join me in my solar for refreshers on etiquette and diplomacy. You shall then have the rest of the afternoons to yourself to reflect on what you have learned and have the chance to get to know Asgard for yourself.**

**Dinner are the only mealtime in which we are all together, and it is usually in a private dining area unless there is a feast. After that is the only guarantee you will have time to spend with my son Loki, as he currently has many duties of his own to attend.**

**Note that all of this is simply in place until the formal betrothal and you are ready to take on duties of your own, and it may change as you continue to learn and grow in yourself.**

**If I may, you have already made me very proud, darling. I see much potential in you, if you will only believe in yourself. I am certain your family is watching over you, and shouting for joy for all the victories you have – great or small.**

 

**I will see you this afternoon, my dear.**

– **Mother Frigga**

 

You sighed, setting the letter down on the vanity table before glancing up at your reflection. You hardly recognized the woman reflected back to you. Maybe you weren’t ready to be a princess yet, but that was okay. You had time. And you wouldn’t be going it alone, for the first time in a long, long time.

You smiled at your reflection, and as the girl in the mirror smiled back, you dared to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Sept 19, 2018  
> Woops, just went through and noticed all the typos I had the first time I posted this chapter. Hopefully, the more glaring ones have been fixed -- I was just too excited to post this chapter the first time! Let me know if you see any other truly glaring typos.  
> And let me know how you like the story so far! I'm always super happy whenever I see a comment or kudos :3


	4. The Hearth-Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly exposition, but the plot thickens! Not much Loki this time. Prepare yourself, for Asgard is not as beautiful as it seems.

As it turned out, Princess Lessons – as you’d taken to calling them – were more or less very simple to add onto your previous knowledge of etiquette and diplomacy. You had sat in on enough of Ylva’s lessons over the years to have an already basic-functioning working-knowledge of how to _not_ make a fool of yourself around foreign diplomats and visiting dignitaries – just with the added subservience required of a lady’s maid. 

The most difficult obstacle in all of this was getting out of the mindset of servitude. Even with the Lady Frigga, it was hard to not look up when she asked a servant for assistance. And the dresses, while surprisingly comfortable as well as fashionable in the Asgardian style and function al at it’s core, was much more lavish and decadent than anything you were accustomed to… It was mildly discomfiting at times to glance down at yourself because of a glimpse of the odd sparkle, or to quietly luxuriate in the softness of the fabric whenever you had the spare moment alone. 

Astrid, now your current attending handmaid, was actually the most helpful in smoothing the transition of “rags to riches.”  She had been raised and served in a lesser noble’s home until a vacancy opened at the Palace about a hundred years before, and she had been hand-selected from those who had applied for the position by Lady Frigga herself, due to Astrid’s diligence in her work and the “potential for something greater.” (You would really have to get used to the idea of such powerful  _seidr_ wielders being around you all the time – especially since Lady Frigga was known to get visions of sorts of future events.  Already, you could tell whenever magic was being cast near your general vicinity! ) 

Though, in all of this, it was Astrid that explained the significance of  _color_ to the nobility of Asgard – particularly those with godhood status. Apparently, that silvery-blue gown you had worn on your very first day was Queen Frigga’s subtle way of showing  her support of your presence: both at the High Table and in the Royal Family’s lives. That was humbling, to say the least. And once you’d grasped the gist of which colors were associated with which god, you  pr o m ptly ensured that none of your new clothing had overt styles in reds or dark blues (they didn’t); and you now realized why both Lady Frigga and the seamstress charged with your wardrobe had been so adamant about so many pieces in green, gold, and black.

You would have nothing and no one to accuse you of trying to gain favor with any of the Royal Family beyond your soulmate, and perhaps Lady Frigga – not that such a trifling thing  as coordinating colors  would truly do such a thing, but you would have no doubts in the minds of the people that you cherished your bond with Prince Loki.

And speaking of your Prince, you missed him.

The day after you arrived – the day you began Princess Lessons –  Loki and Thor were all too quickly locked away with the All-Father and his council, for the entire day. It had hurt to not see him, still being so new to this bond, but Lady Frigga explained that a sudden attack on Alfheim by an outside source drew them away for matters of war. Her face betrayed nothing of her worries as she explained this, though her blue eyes had gone stormy, and the light within her had dimmed ever so slightly. The very next day, the  P rinces, the Warriors Three, Lady Sif, and a small portion of Asgard’s Army had tromped out to the Bifrost to quell the disturbances in Alfheim. Loki had been kind enough to leave a note with Astrid, apologizing that he couldn’t be there by your side, but promising that he would return to you as soon as he possibly could. And even though it made you feel silly, it calmed and soothed you to keep that missive  close by you at night, and so you kept it on your nightstand, tracing over the smooth, flowing script with your eyes in the pale moonlight.

Everything about the situation – your soulmate being Asgard’s Dark Prince, the sudden transition from being who served to being one who was served, Asgard itself and the culture shock – was hard to adjust to, and was exacerbated by the absence of your soul’s mate when the bond was still so fresh… It  _had_ occurred to you to be irritated with the All-Father for knowingly sending off his son when the soulmate bond was so new, but as that would do you little good  (especially since Asgard was sworn to protect and aid all the Nine Realms as needed), you determined that it was simpler to be upset that Alfheim was being attacked at all.

The Light Elves, in your experience, were a very kind, wholesome people. Their talent with magic and knack for growing things was rivaled only by the strongest of the Vanir  _seidr_ -wielders. That they should be attacked at all felt like a cosmic injustice in the known universe. They were such a peaceful people… And that suddenly made you glad for the reputations of both your beloved and his brother, and the famed might of Asgard’s Army.  They would see to it that those who would dare wreak havoc upon such a wonderful people would pay for their crimes. 

And in the meantime, you had your studies and socializing to rely upon for distraction. On base level, your Princess Lessons were not too dissimilar from what you had sat in on with Ylva for so many years –  _diplomacy tended to come naturally when you worked with one who had such an explosive temper_ – though you found that things like etiquette were less emphasized in Asgard than in Vanaheim.  Perhaps it was due to the reputation of the Vanir as beings of poise and unequivocal manners, but you could remember many instances where Ylva had been heavily scolded by her instructors for her disinterest in properly learning how to walk and speak before her betters and contemporaries. 

More often that not, you got roped into demonstrating “how easy” it was to learn. Because after all, if a  _servant_ could do it, why not the “young lady of such noble breeding?” It was always an uncomfortable position for you, but as the years went by and her lessons became more complex, you suspected that she enjoyed your discomfort and would take to scolding you when you would make mistakes – sometimes the same ones she had made, herself… 

To say the least, it was a relief to hear from the All-Mother that Ylva would be escorted back to Vanaheim  by a guard retinue three days after Loki and Thor and the other s had left for Alfheim.  That entire day of lessons had been set aside in favor of writing up a testimonial not only of the incident regarding Ylva’s imprisonment, but of every abuse she had turned upon myself or the other servants. You even went as far as to include what you knew of what her wrath looked like when she turned upon her peers and the lesser nobility – her maliciously cruel “jokes” – who had crossed her somehow. Looking at it all on paper hurt your heart. So much venom and hatred  to have stemmed from one person… It was frightening. And you silently despaired that so much of it could have been prevented, had the King and Queen of Vanaheim not become so blind to the actions and heart of their daughter… 

Well, there was little use lamenting over “should have, could have been” when the here and now was so much more interesting. Your soulmate may not have been able to be by your side, but you were certainly busy  acquainting yourself with Asgard as a whole. The land itself was a wonder of beauty and magic. ( _Seriously, how does the sea work?? Does it get magicked back to the source and cycle through again, or what? Absolutely mind-boggling!_ )  Everywhere and anywhere you looked, there was something new or exciting to behold and observe. It was all rather brilliant to you, considering Vanaheim is more or less less built from brick and wood rather than carved stone – or even gilded gold! And all of that was just what you could spot from the Palace grounds.

The people, on the other hand… Well, it was a bit of a toss-up on whether or not you could stand to be in their presence, or wholeheartedly enjoy their company. The servants could almost always be counted on being at least pleasantly polite, but the rest of the All-Father’s Court? You could confidently say after three days that it was a bit of a mess. There were many a seasoned warrior left behind while the young blood was gone to fight, and they mostly kind and boisterous – if also usually drunk by the afternoons. The lords and ladies, on the other hand, were a mixed bunch. There were some that you simply couldn’t tolerate being around for their small-mindedness and petty squabbling; those reminded you too closely of Ylva’s own circle on Vanaheim, and thus avoided them as much as possible.  The others, thankfully, were more kind and conscientious – if not still arrogant and perhaps too proud for their own good.

By day five, you could begin to say who you could see as friends and which you would rather keep at arm’s length… And that list was narrowed significantly that afternoon while you were strolling through the halls aimlessly, simply trying to familiarize yourself with your new home. While quietly wandering, you heard a  trio of Court ladies approaching from around the corner, the tell-tale clip of their shoes and the swish of heavy gowns heralding them well before getting into view. It wouldn’t have been so strange but for the fact that their conversation caught your attention.

“… Do you really think she is Prince Loki’s soulmate?”

“I would say she must be. If she were merely pregnant, then they would have simply payed her off and sent her with her bastard someplace far and away from Asgard. There’s nothing to be gained from having a former  _servant_ joined to the Royal Family, after all!”

That stung, to be so doubted. You didn’t want them to see you now, since they were so close. It would simply create unnecessary awkward tension, and you were already exhausted from the day’s studies in Asgardian history and coaching in diplomacy. So you hid beneath a nearby decorative table with floor-length tablecloth and golden-gilded vase. It was a tight fit, but you were able to quickly fold yourself under the tablecloth and arrange it to appear draped naturally before the trio of “ladies” could notice anything amiss. And unfortunately, the conversation didn’t end there.

The third piped up, saying, “I would feel sorry for her if I wasn’t so relieved. Better  _her_ than any of us!”

A  thrum of  pained confusion shot through your heart at that, but still they pushed on!

“Can you imagine, being so attracted to the Dark Prince? Lying with him on the marriage bed?” the second snorted. “He is naught more than skin and bone, compared to his brother. There is little more than his face going for him. I would be afraid I would crush him.”

The first gave an ugly, derisive laugh in return. “I bet that such a man that relies on tricks and magic in battle wouldn’t even have the strength to do more than a pittance to arouse his woman. I cannot even imagine someone so selfish to be as generous a lover as the  _true warriors_ .”

“Oh, that reminds me!” the third giggled. “Did I tell you about that one time I – …”

Your blood was boiling white hot with rage by that point, and it rushed in your ears to block out the rest of their disrespectful, insipid conversation.  It was one thing to be doubtful of your bond with Loki, since it hadn’t been widely announced yet, but to insult your soulmate?! If it were possible to pop out just to see their faces and know their identities and still walk away with your dignity and reputation intact, you would have done it in a heartbeat. However, as you were beginning to learn, as a new Princess of Asgard  (officially or not) ,  you were representative of Asgard and the Royal Family at all times – from the time you left your bedchambers to the moment you retired to them once more. It would be just your luck to reveal yourself in an awkward position to such vicious gossip-mongers as you were trying to build a new life here.

So, with great effort and a silent promise to yourself for  their future reckoning, you held still as their footsteps faded away, committing the sounds of their voices to memory as best you could. And it was as you crawled out from under the table that you realized you were falling back into old habits.

You somehow had the uncanny knack of being nearby whenever gossip was dropped or made. You had sometimes used that knowledge to protect your fellow servants, or quietly enact justice on those who were abusing their positions in power, in the past. It was for that reason you got the reputation among the Palace servants of Vanaheim for being the Bride of Mischief, for it seemed to dog your every step – intentionally or not!

You shook your head as you dusted yourself off. Those women would get their comeuppance, you would make sure of it. Nothing so cruel as to hurt them, but to expose their hateful and distasteful personalities…  You were still stewing on what to do to find out their identities, and how best to move forward, in the back of your mind into the next day. 

It was in the middle of your lessons with Lady Frigga that she received word that her sons and the Army were making their return to Asgard. Immediately, the Queen was on her feet, making arrangements for a proper welcoming home made to her satisfaction. As late in the day it was, it seemed that the Royal Cooks were always prepared for grand feasts (since all Asgardians appeared to be bottomless pits when it come to sumptuous food and drink), and all was made ready in a matter of an hour.

“Once they leave,” Lady Frigga explained as she finally sat to resume the lesson, “I always have some easy return preparations done early in the hope that not all is as severe as initially perceived. Perhaps it is foolish of me to believe that one day they may return on the spot for peaceful negotiations to ensue, but in the long run, it is more practical to keep the hearth-fire lit even if dim, than to start from scratch.”

It surprised you to hear such practicalities (though it probably shouldn’t have, considering this was the essence of a true Queen) from one born of such noble bloodlines, and you were blown away by her mention of peace. Asgard was, after all, a notoriously warring and warlike people – so to hear of their Queen so fervently hope for peace was nearly as alien a thought to you as the land itself. Certainly, the All-Mother was renown for being kind and wise, but for peace to be one of the foremost goals in her mind? It went against everything you had ever been taught about Asgard – including at least half of the lessons on Asgardian history you already had in Asgard!

However, the more you thought about it, perhaps her peace-making attitude stemmed from the fact that Lady Frigga was originally of Vanaheim, herself? Certainly, diplomacy and conflict-mediation were more highly lauded than any physical act when it came to inter-Realm  relations (though many argued that the only Realm worth upkeeping relations was Asgard)… Perhaps part of her allure to the All-Father in asking for her hand, all those years ago, was Lady Frigga’s tender heart and levelheadedness.  Granted, they were soulmates, but that didn’t mean they had to be exactly alike. For crying out loud, the All-Father was Realms-renown for having a mighty and terrible temper, while the All-Mother was praised and beloved for her unending kindness and patience… 

A smile tugged at your lips. Apparently, the Norns were better match-makers than anyone ever gave them credit, if they were able to give such strong personalities to each other and somehow make it work!

“Come, my dear,” Lady Frigga said, gently. “I can see that further lessons today will be useless with the return of your soulmate.” The Queen’s eyes glittered knowingly, and you couldn’t help the embarrassment that painted your face.

“I apologize, Lady Frigga. I did not intend for my thoughts to wander so far.”

“No matter, darling,” she smiled kindly. “I should have known not to continue with such welcome distractions at hand. Go now, and prepare to meet your soulmate. I shall see you at the feast this evening.”

Grinning, you curtsied before the All-Mother as you had been taught, glad to see some small measure of pride in her eyes at your smooth execution, and promptly left.  You knew that if you started primping and preening now, you would not be done fussing until the feast proper, and you wanted to be there to greet your Dark Prince home, so that was out of the question. However, you still had too much excited energy to simply sit down somewhere and wait. So you let your feet carry you to wherever they decided to take you. After all, you had the chance earlier to become more familiar with the Palace, but there was still plenty unknown to you, and it was always exciting to discover something new.

Your feet carried you down a few levels, onto one of the common floors, to wander. Before you knew it, you found a little curtained nook with a daybed, and it had the best view over the Rainbow Bridge  you had seen yet ! Barely paying attention as the weighted curtain drifted closed behind you, you scrambled as close as you could to the window, too eager to see if you could somehow spot the returning figure of your soulmate.

“Milady Ingrid! Please, what is it that troubles you so?”

You held absolutely still, shocked at the closeness of the voices  for you had not heard them approach. 

“Silence, Bergljot,” a familiar voice grated. It was one of the women that had been slandering your soulmate  the day before – the third speaker, if you weren’t mistaken. “If you  _must_ know, you pig-headed, cloud-addled fool, I’ve just received word from one of my dear friends in Vanaheim that the slag that has claimed the Dark Prince as her ‘soulmate’ is a liar, a thief, and a charlatan. Apparently, this isn’t the first time the girl has tried to sabotage her happiness, but this was  a first – to be returned home in disgrace! Why, I’ve never heard of something as preposterous for a  P rincess of Vanaheim! This simply cannot go unchallenged.”

“But milady! The lady has been confirmed and vouched for by the Royal Family. There is simply no way possible to lie  to their Highnesses without their knowledge, especially Prince Loki!” Bergljot urged.

“I said to _silence_ yourself, servant! And that goes for what we have discussed here too. If it is that this little snake charmer _hasn’t_ lied, then she must have ingratiated herself into the Royal Family’s favor somehow. I don’t know how, since Ylva has always been adept at manipulating the hearts and minds of others before they know they’ve been ensnared, but I intend to find out. Sort out this usurping cuckold so that the true Princess can take her rightful place in the golden halls of Asgard,  whatever means necessary …”

There was a long pause of silence, and then a sharp thud of flesh being forced against the stone wall next to the closed curtain. You listened, frozen and unable to breathe, as Ingrid hissed, “You will forget all that you heard for the past few moments. If anyone asks, your dear mistress was so overjoyed by the return of Asgard’s Army that you became dumb and stopped listening until she became faint and exahusted. You are merely a useless, lazy,  worthless servant that couldn’t be bothered to do her job properly.”

The tang of magic – of _seidr_ – filled the air, and it became obvious to you that this Ingrid was much more dangerous than you had previously believed. Unlike the sweetness that seemed to accompany Lady Frigga’s _seidr_ , or the soothing effervescence you felt with Loki’s, Ingrid’s magic stung like freshly chopped onions with a sour berry twist.

“I – ah, milady Ingrid, I must apologize to you most profusely. I – I don’t know where my mind went. Are you well? Shall I escort you to the Healing Wing?” Bergljot inquired, meek and beseeching.

Ingrid’s reply, while breathy, was sharp, biting, “No, insolent girl. Take me to my chambers. I wish to be well-rested for the victory feast tonight.”

“Yes, milady; of course, milady.”

You didn’t think to breathe until after you had heard their footsteps fade away. And it was only then that you realized what exactly you were looking at – Asgard’s Army, with six riders in prominence at the lead, was finally returning home… But what a home to return to!

You slumped in the daybed, absently acknowledging that this was the most  physically  comfortable you had ever been while accidentally eavesdropping,  yet under the worst emotional upheaval .  There was no doubt that Ingrid was connected to Ylva, though you had no memory of their supposed association. That wasn’t the worst thing on your mind, however.

You shuddered to think of what might have happened had Ingrid thought to check on their privacy… Perhaps you should keep Astrid close for the time being,  and not wander on your own .  Because c learly, you were in over your way, and you knew it well. Though, you knew that if you went to Lady Frigga or even the All-Father directly, you would have no proof beyond your own memories – if Ingrid was truly altering the memories of her maiden, there would be no witness to stand by your side, and no tangible proof of legitimate threat either. 

Your stomach roiled in fear. You hadn’t been this afraid for your life since the early days of being in Ylva’s service, when you had been sure she would try to execute you for any and every little mistake. You knew that you couldn’t do this alone. You didn’t have enough allies, didn’t have enough connections in Asgard. You were too visible a figure to skulk around as you did, once upon a time.  And you definitely weren’t prepared to go toe-to-toe with one trained in the magical arts. 

Your previous feats – exposing terrible personalities and abuses of power, uncovering minor scandals – paled and seemed almost juvenile in comparison. You needed help – _real_ help. Hopefully, as the god of Mischief, your soulmate might be able to give you the guidance you needed.

_What a way to keep the hearth-fires going, eh? Nothing like coming home to treason and a terrified soulmate for the Trickster._

You sighed, shaking off your nervousness as you stood. Astrid would definitely be looking for you soon, if she wasn’t already, and though the thought of being on display to Asgard for a feast made your gut tie itself in tighter knots than only a second before, you realized it was necessary. This was what you were being trained for – to stand unshakable even in the face of certain adversity.

You couldn’t afford to look frightened now, and you already felt more at ease knowing you wouldn’t have to shoulder this burden alone.

You only hoped you could figure out a way to tell Loki that you needed to speak with him – alone – without arousing suspicion… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has stuck to this story! Oh my goodness, you all are amazing, and I cherish each and every one of the comments you leave -- even if it's just keyboard smashes in excitement XD And thank you, ALL OF YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, for being so patient with me. For some reason, this chapter did NOT want to cooperate with me, but in the end, I'm mostly pleased with the end result. Let me know what you're thinking in the comments below! They really help keep me motivated to continue <3
> 
>  
> 
> And if you’re feeling generous, please feel free to buy me a coffee (hot chocolate for me, XD) through my new ko-fi! It really helps support me in doing what I love, which is writing stories like this!  
> Check it out! https://ko-fi.com/zennacrell

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone can tell me how to add Chapter Summaries that aren't in the "Notes" box, that would be awesome! I'm still so new to uploading to AO3 that I'm having trouble figuring out the posting layout. Please and thank you!  
> Let me know what you think of it all in the comments below. I might take suggestions for the direction of where to take this -- because I originally had no intentions of continuing the original OneShot, so I have more of a loose outline than anything else! SPAM ME WITH IDEAS, I CAN USE THEM!


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